


soleil et pluie

by afablefromanothertime



Series: Neshama [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Carnival, Depression, High School AU, M/M, Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Ocean, Sea, Senior year, Summer, beach, depiction of loneliness, gay undertones but no relationships, im getting better at tags look at me go, mentions of selfharm urges, painting bc artsy gays, searching for friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25906471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afablefromanothertime/pseuds/afablefromanothertime
Summary: “After all, flowers always have to bloom before they wither, right?”When no one was there for him, he always had the ocean. He doesn’t need anyone else. So long as he has the sand beneath his feet and the sea spray in his hair. So it doesn’t matter if no one else believes Chris is real.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix, Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Series: Neshama [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020796
Comments: 11
Kudos: 45





	soleil et pluie

**Author's Note:**

> surprise! here is something i wrote taking place the summer before senior year at the end of my summer before senior year. i hope you welcome it into your heart >.<
> 
> The title is taken from songs by the Japanese singer Aimer, who has two instrumental pieces titled "soleil" and "pluie" from different albums that inspired this fic. Give them a listen!
> 
> TW/ mentions of suicide, selfharm urges, mental illness, therapy
> 
> Songs to listen to:  
> Aimer - pluie  
> Aimer - sailing  
> Aimer - Ref:rain  
> Childish Gambino - Summertime Magic  
> Sawano Hiroyuki - Emotion  
> Stray Kids - TA  
> Stray Kids - Blueprint  
> Aimer - soleil

I might’ve preferred Seoul.

I might’ve preferred Seoul, if it weren’t for one thing.

Busan sits on the coast, the city lined with beaches. Our new house is perched in a beach village, just a few twists and turns away from the ocean. Our new house is wooden. The floors creak and the windows rattle, and when they’re left open at night I can hear the crashing waves, undisturbed by any other noise. When all is still, I can smell the sea air that wafts up from the beach, luring me out of my room with promises of serenity and refreshment. 

It is on one such night that I teeteringly balance a full glass of water in one hand while trying to carry both my laptop and phone to my room. My earbuds are in peril too, the cord swinging around beneath the glass as it threatens to spill. I valiantly ignore the danger and focus on the cake-making ASMR I’ve selected for the night. It’s been a while since I last saw a therapist, but my parents agreed that ASMR would help with my various mental struggles. 

I survive the perilous trek, and with no hands to turn on the light, enter my room in darkness. The floor is bare, but against the walls are stacked dozens of canvases. The more recent ones are placed on top to dry, but there are years worth of paintings in this room. An artistic memoir of every stage of my life. 

Tonight I pull a fresh canvas from my desk and perch on my bed, balancing a palette on my knee and twirling a brush between my fingers. Surprisingly, though all is still and my ASMR is working as planned, I don’t feel the familiar rush of creativity flood my senses. My most favored subject is the ocean, exploring every shade and combination of blues and greens to capture its depth and majesty. The swirls of sand and inky sky. It’s the night that comes to mind when I picture the sea, not the day. The day is for sleeping in and baking brownies. The night is for painting and visiting the beach.

Hm… visiting the beach. Probably not a bad idea. It’s late, but I’m itching to get a painting done. I feel anxious and stuffy, and I tug my earbuds out of my ears. Just like that, I feel the walls around me closing in, the finished paintings around me mocking my lack of inspiration. 

Just a quick walk, to clear my head. I need some alone time. _Like I ever have anything but._

I make the walk down to the beach in silence, favoring the distant sounds of playful shouts and cheers from nearby houses over music. The sun is still setting despite the late hour. One of the many perks of summer. One of the last few weeks where I can embrace my solitude. 

It’s really funny, actually, I muse, as I cross from concrete to sand and settle down on a ridge overlooking the ocean. The main beach is much more busy, but I’ve found a small part of it sheltered away by a crop of rocks that is always deserted. It’s _my_ beach, and it’s where I come to think and feel sad. I never find myself coming to the beach when I’m happy. That’s when I paint. No, when I feel sad and need to drown in how alone I am, I come and sit and let the sand filter through my fingers, as temporary and useless as every friendship I’ve ever had.

I hadn’t expected moving to Busan to be any different. Different city, different country, different continent, but what’s the difference? It wouldn’t make me any more friendly or likeable. It wouldn’t make people flock to my side, wouldn’t give me anyone to spend the weekends with except my own sisters.

Resting my head on my knees, I wonder what it would be like to have a true friend. A best friend, even. Someone to trust and confide in. Someone to learn the secrets of, the way the ocean knew the secrets of every life it held in its waters.

I let my eyes flutter closed. It would be nice, I decide. It would be nice to have a friend.

“Hi?”

Hearing another voice is so unexpected it makes me flail and kick up sand in my face. 

Spluttering in surprise, I squint up through the harsh evening light at the newcomer standing over me. 

“Hi?” I offer back, unsure whether to stand and leave or not.

“May I sit beside you?” The stranger asks. He’s silhouetted, and I can’t see him properly. He could be a middle aged pedophile, for all I know.

“Sure,” I offer anyways, because someone to talk to is still someone to talk to. Can’t hurt, right? I can always just leave and go home. I like to be alone, but sometimes it’s nice to… not have to be.

Then the stranger sits, and the light hits his form, and I can see his face. Well, he’s definitely not a middle aged pedophile. He looks about college aged, placing him a few years older than me. His deep chocolate curls offset his pearly white complexion, leaving his deep inquisitive eyes to sparkle with bemusement as they regard me. He leans back and kicks his legs up. He’s barefoot, I note. Dressed in a loose white shirt and dark pants, leaning back to admire the sky before turning back to me.

“I come around the beach pretty often, and you don’t look familiar. You new around here?”

He has a very blunt way of speaking, but his voice is soft and holds politeness. I find myself enjoying hearing him speak.

“Just moved here a week ago,” I respond slowly, trying to keep my obvious accent out of my voice.

“No kidding. Where from?”

“Sydney, Australia.” I drop the answer and wait for him to make some side comment about how he should have guessed, it was obvious from my subpar Korean skills.

“No way! You serious, mate?” He makes the switch to English as easy as breathing. 

Hearing my first language spoken somewhere outside my own home for the first time in a week feels like a wave of relief crashing down on my shoulders. I can’t help but match his dimpled grin.

“You from Australia, too?”

“Yeah, long time ago.” He stretches out a hand. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Felix. Felix Lee.” I shake his hand. It dwarfs mine, pale and veiny and cold.

“I’m Chris. Chris Bang.” 

“Sounds like a superhero’s name,” I say before I can stop myself.

Chris bursts out laughing like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “What? Really? Nah.” He waves off the comment and looks me up and down. “You’re still in high school?”

I nod. “Gonna be a senior next year.” 

“Big change. How was school in Australia?”

I hesitate. Should I disclose this information to a complete stranger? We’ve only just met. Although… Chris is the first person I’ve talked to since we moved. Maybe this was my chance to make an acquaintance, if not a friend. 

“I was homeschooled,” I admit. “It’s a long story.”

“That’s alright. I won’t pry.” 

Chris is respectful, and I appreciate that. Maybe it’s the Korean manners, but I sense it’s something that’s been drilled into him. 

“What about you?” I ask, and he blinks. 

“Hm?”

“School.”

“Oh, right.” He smiles. “Marine biology major. With a minor in psychology.”

“Ah,” I say. “Where?”

“Community college. Can’t really afford much else,” he confesses. “Gotta stay close to home. Why’d you move?”

“Work, and some other things. I think we all needed a fresh start.”

“Well, you’ll definitely find that here,” Chris assures me.

“Really? What makes you say that?” I glance towards him.

Chris gestures to the sea before us. “The ocean has a way of healing all scars. It’ll lead you to whatever or whoever you need the most. It’s held millions of years of life. It’s practically all-knowing.”

I like the way he speaks about the ocean, as if the waters themselves are a living being.

“What about your family? Do they live nearby?” I ask boldly.

“Back in Australia, actually. My dad is a swim teacher. My mum teaches English.”

“Ah, a line of teachers,” I observe. “That explains why you’re so wise.”

Chris giggles. “I wouldn’t say that….”

I grin. I feel weirdly comfortable, more so than I’ve ever felt with a stranger. I can’t remember the last time I was able to hold a conversation this long.

We lapse into silence. It’s hardly awkward, though. I feel content to sit next to Chris and watch the waves as they inch closer.

“Good luck with school, then,” Chris tells me. He smiles and stands. 

“Going already?” I ask, startled that I actually care.

“It’s getting late. You should head home.” Chris extends a hand and helps me to my feet. “Maybe I’ll see you around, then?”

“This is my favorite piece of beach, so if you come around here, then probably.”

Chris grins. “Noted. I will keep that in mind.” He drapes an arm around my shoulder like we’re buddies and walks the ten feet to the end of the beach with me. “Have a good one, mate.”

“You too.” It’s early for me to head home after a visit to the beach, but I find myself filled with previously missing inspiration. 

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Music fills my ears, headphones filtering the tinny sound through my brain and putting me in a good mood. It’s rare for me to paint with music on, because I only do it when I feel happy. And it’s been a long time since I’ve felt happy. Definitely long before we moved.

_Don’t think about Australia,_ I tell myself. It’s what my mom told me the night we moved here. _Just think about the present and the future, and all the new memories we’ll make here._ They’re worried, I can tell. They’re scared that what happened in Sydney will happen here too, that if it can happen in my home of seventeen years it can happen anywhere. Me, I’m not so sure. At first, I figured I didn’t really care. Location wouldn’t change what was going on inside my head. But ever since I met Chris yesterday, that’s changed. Something has put me in a good mood. 

I hum along to Childish Gambino as I paint. I’m painting the ocean, as always, but it’s daytime on my canvas. It’s daytime and there’s a person sitting on the beach watching the waves. There’s a person but it’s not me. It’s supposed to be Chris. I give the person a flowy white shirt and a crown of dark curls that blow softly in the breeze I paint with silver stripes. 

“You want a muffin?” My little sister pops her head in. “They’re chocolate chip.”

I’m about to decline when my stomach growls an affirmative. “Can’t argue with that,” I say with a quick grin, and snatch one off the plate in her hands. 

“Did you eat breakfast?” She asks suspiciously.

I scowl. “Yes.”

“Are you just saying that?”

“I had a bagel.”

“What was on it?” 

“Did Mom put you up to this?” I wave the muffin at her. “I am almost an adult. I can handle breakfast.”

“Yesterday you forgot to eat until 8pm.”

“That was an accident!”

“I know it’s a side effect of your pills, Lix, but you could at least set a reminder!” She frowns up at me like she’s the older sibling or something.

I pause _Summertime Magic_ and put my hands on my hips. “Will it make you stop pestering me if I do?”

“I’ll stop pestering you _and_ I’ll buy you a smoothie.”

“Deal.” We shake hands and I close the door on her face. Little siblings.

It’s late morning. Too early to go to the beach and see if Chris is there. I’ll go at nighttime. Which gives me the afternoon to go downtown. If I feel up to leaving the house.

Saying so is a bold statement. I never really _feel_ ike going anywhere. It’s more I lethargically force my legs to move, otherwise they would never leave my bed. I don’t feel any particular motivation of my own to go anywhere. I would honestly be content to just sleep until I die. It’s not like I have anyone to talk to before that happens, anyway(family doesn’t count).

So because I can feel my good mood fading, I pull my just as faded Converse onto my feet and grab my keys on the way out. I realize belatedly that I left my headphones in my room, and so my walk into downtown is done in silence. 

I peer curiously at the houses I pass, wondering if I’ll see Chris coming out of one of them. I have no idea if he lives nearby or if he was just visiting from downtown. I really should have pressed for more information, since he’s the only person I’ve gotten to know since moving. 

I don’t see Chris. I do, however, see a cute dog that I stop to pet. Random cute doggies make me remember why I haven’t tried to sleep my way through life yet. 

I find a marketplace and am immediately pressed in on all sides by people flocking to stalls and venders. I try to turn around and find myself swimming upstream. I am effectively being tunneled forwards, and I feel myself start to panic before I get control of my lungs. _It’s alright. You’re not in any danger. You’re in public. Get a hold of yourself._

I tug at the strands of my hair furiously until I’m free of the crowd. I’ve really been meaning to dye it a different color. It’s just been lavender for _so long,_ and seeing that color on my head has made it hard to see anywhere else. 

I walk quickly away from the market. Busan itself hasn’t been very welcoming so far. There are cafes and bookshops and what looks like an arcade, and I pass by a bakery that beckons me in with smells of vanilla and custard, but I just ate a muffin and I can’t possibly be hungry again yet.

The thought makes me sad. I should just head home already if I’m not going to do anything. 

I think about going into the bakery, but I decide not to. It looks crowded in there. Better stay out. 

The door opens as I pass by. People are leaving, and as they do, loud, cheerful voices drift out of the shop. Young, laughing, carefree. It makes me stop. I see a couple of boys my age sitting by the window. I wonder what it would be like to go to a place like this with friends.

Maybe Chris—

_Stop. You barely know him._

I shake my head and continue home. What a waste of time.

“Were you just out?” Mom pokes her head out of the kitchen as I kick off my shoes in the entryway.

“Yeah.”

“You should have told me! I didn’t know where you were!”

I look up at her. “You’re a bit late on that.”

I haven’t forgiven her, and she knows, but it’s still a pointed jab that stings effectively. 

She winces. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I know.” I shuffle my feet. “I went downtown,” I tell her, because I might as well make it a reconnaissance mission. “It was pretty boring.”

“Well, that’s cause you were all by yourself!” Mom moves closer to ruffle my hair. “Once we’ve been here for longer and you’ve gotten the chance to make friends, it’ll be more fun.”

Right. Friends. How am I supposed to do that, exactly?

I blink and it’s dinnertime. Time has a funny way of slowing when it’s painful and speeding up when it’s joyful. Today was neither, but I find myself finishing my _jjigae_ and _banchan_ quickly. I excuse myself to go on a walk to the beach, and hear my heart thumping louder than my music as I tug on a jacket. 

I keep my earbuds in to look cooler as I make my way down to the beach. I have no idea if Chris will be there, but it’s the same time as yesterday, and that seems as good a place to start as any.

I round a crop of jagged, grayish-brown rock to my secret strip of beach. To my delight, Chris is there already, dressed similarly to yesterday’s outfit. He looks up when I approach and grins. He lowers a pair of sunglasses, a new addition to his ensemble, and greets me with a, “Nice to see you, mate!”

“I’m really glad I caught you here!” I say eagerly, plopping down beside him. “I wanted to talk to you again, but I don’t know how to find you.”

“Ah.” Chris scratches his head. “Good thing you found me, then?”

“Yeah!” I scoot closer. “You think I could get your number, or something?” If I meant it as a pickup line it would’ve been smooth as hell, but I honestly just want to keep in touch with the guy.

“Uh… yeah, about that.” For a second I’m scared he’s going to call me a weird obsessed creep, but then he says, “I actually… don’t have a phone?” He phrases it uncertainly. “Yeah. It’s part of this whole _against the dependence on technology_ phase I’m doing. So… no can do for you, mate.”

“Oh. That’s fine.” I could _never_ go without my phone. If I can’t keep up to date with everything Twice does, I’ll explode. “We can just plan what time to meet up, then!”

Chris grins. “Sure!” He stretches out his legs. “So tell me about being homeschooled. What’s that like?”

I eagerly answer all of Chris’s questions. I’ve never had anyone so interested in me before. Getting to talk about myself is a strange yet pleasant thing. I’m always careful to turn it back on him though, ask him about how his school is, but he seems to shy away from sharing. 

That’s okay, though. I have a life’s worth of stories to tell.

I don’t tell him everything, though. I don’t tell him about the pills or why my parents are worried about me or even the real reason we moved. I just tell him about how my mom is better at math than my dad, but my dad teaches history better. Sometimes my older sister will convince them to let her administer my tests and then lets me cheat. Chris finds that hilarious. 

“So what about your friends, then?” Chris asks. 

My smile falters. “Hm?”

“I’m assuming you’re keeping in touch, but how did you keep up with them if you’re homeschooled?”

Right, because I’ve been bouncing around the reason why I’m homeschooled, too. 

“I don’t really have friends,” I admit. “I know it sounds really sad, but I honestly don’t.”

Chris shrugs. “Some people just roll solo.”

The way he puts it is far too cool to describe my situation. I don’t “roll solo.” I just don’t have anyone who likes me enough to want to spend time with me. 

“Besides, you have me, don’t you?” Chris asks tentatively. “I mean, we just met, but we get along pretty well, right?”

“Yeah!” I jump on his words immediately. “Yeah, definitely. And who needs more than one friend, anyway?” 

Chris laughs, but it’s not as instinctual as the other times he laughs. 

“Do you go downtown often?” I ask, remembering what my mom told me.

“Oh, not often,” Chris responds easily. “I like to stay on the beach more.”

“Oh, okay. That’s cool.” It’s not cool, because that’s not what I wanted to hear. I wanted him to say he’d be down to go downtown with me, that we could hit up the arcade or see a movie or do something friends do. But you can’t force someone to do something they don’t want to do. At least, you shouldn’t. It’s not something a friend would do. 

I switch the topic to music, and we talk about artists we like and who’s playing a concert where and when. “Have you ever been to a concert before?” I ask curiously.

Chris shakes his head.

“Really? I think I saw the Wiggles, and that’s, like, it.”

Chris bursts out laughing. “The Wiggles? Seriously?”

“What? They’re Aussies!”

“Oh, oh, I know that one song that’s like— _fruit salad…._ Nevermind. I forgot the words.”

I don’t remember them either, and that topic ends there. But no matter what we talk about, it’s all _comfortable._ Chris doesn’t push me to say anything I don’t want to say. So we decide to meet back up at 8 o’clock tomorrow, and he walks with me to the end of the beach again. 

“Where do you live?” I ask curiously. 

“Not very close to here. I just like to come to this beach more than others.”

“Oh? Why?” I wonder.

Chris grins. “Cause this beach has you.”

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Chris is sitting on the beach in my next painting of the ocean. This time, I’m there too, and we’re building a sand castle. _You’re delusional, Felix Lee,_ I tell myself. _Creating a fantasy friendship with someone you barely know._

Chris would probably argue that we _are_ friends. We’ve met up at least four times now, and every time assures me that we are, in fact, friends now. He cuts me off every time I say something about not having any friends. It’s annoying, but I appreciate it a lot. 

I’ve asked him if he wants to go different places with me, but he always says he prefers the beach. I even asked him once if he wanted to come over for dinner, but the idea seemed to make him nervous, so I dropped it.

It’s a week after our second meeting that I remember my younger sister owes me a smoothie, and so I drag her out of the house on a Tuesday afternoon to the smoothie shack a five minute walk from our house. 

It’s a cute little colorful building that’s sagging a bit in the roof. We passed it on the way here from the airport, but I’ve never gotten the chance to go inside. I usher my sister in and, to my delight, see that it’s empty. 

A single guy stands behind the counter, no other workers in sight. Poor guy must be bored as hell. Either that or he’s glad he doesn’t have to talk to anyone. 

I suspect it’s the first one when he spots us and his face lights up in the brightest, purest smile I have ever seen. He’s probably the same age as me, and he looks like an excited golden retriever. 

I approach the counter slowly like I’m debating what to order, although I knew before I set foot inside that I wanted whatever chocolate banana combination they offer. 

The boy is still smiling when I approach the counter. I wonder if he goes to the school I’m going to this fall. Oh right. School. Actual school with other people and lockers and classrooms and probably some of those stereotypical bullies you see in movies. I wonder which stereotype this guy falls into. He could be a nerd, but I can’t really tell. Probably more of a book nerd than a D&D and Star Trek nerd, although I could be wrong. What clique would I fall into? What’s my _thing?_ Do I have a _thing?_ Do I need to have a _thing_ to be in high school? Am I allowed to be just a normal, complicated person, or will I get attacked by a rich, preppy asshole for that?

I realize I’ve been standing at the counter staring at this boy I don’t even know for nearly a minute straight, and my sister, that little shit, is just watching in amusement. “Sorry,” I say awkwardly. “I just— I, um—”

The boy laughs. “Don’t worry about it! We all have our zone-out moments. Mine mostly happen in class, though. Like, _right_ before the teacher calls on me. Isn’t that the worst?” He keeps up our conversation while entering a new order in. His nametag says _Seungmin._ “So what can I get for you?”

I’m saved from explaining the homeschool deal by ordering my chocolate banana smoothie. “Taste,” Seungmin praises me. He’s the only one working here, so I assume once he goes to make the drinks that the human interaction part of getting my smoothie has been successfully cleared.

I am wrong. Seungmin can make smoothies and talk louder than the blender and even keep his train of thought, all at the same time. “Do you go to the beachside high school? You know, the one near here? I’m going to be a senior next year.”

“I will.” I say. “I just moved,” I add quickly. “I’ll also be a senior, though.”

“Aw, neat! And, really? Wait, from where?” Seungmin pours our drinks. “Seoul? Jeju?”

“No, Australia.”

Seungmin’s jaw drops. “Wait, you’re a foreigner?” He scrunches his nose adorably. “That’s embarrassing. I usually have a pretty good foreigner radar.”

I laugh. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you couldn’t tell from my accent.” My sister is giving me a surprised look at this point, but I can’t figure out what I said wrong.

“No! Not at all. Your Korean’s so good. How long have you spoken it?” Seungmin rings up the order without breaking eye contact, his chocolate brown eyes wide and innocently curious. 

“Just a couple months.”

“No fucking way!” Seungmin immediately shoots a look at my sister. “Uh, I mean—”

“She’s heard worse,” I explain half-heartedly. 

“And read worse.”

“Yeah— wait, what?” I spin to face her but she just skips away, unbothered. “Okay, I’ll find out more later, I guess. I’m Felix, by the way.”

Seungmin grins. “You guys are cute. I can probably practice my English with you, if it’s not a bother?”

“You know English?” I ask, maybe a little too excitedly.

“Yeah, I lived in LA a few years ago and picked it up pretty well. I probably won’t be able to keep up with you, though.” 

“No, that’s totally fine! I’d love to be able to speak with someone.”

 _You speak English with Chris,_ a voice says somewhere in my mind. It surprises me, because I haven’t even thought of Chris the whole time I’ve been here. 

“That sounds great!” Seungmin grins. “Well, if we’re going to school together, I’ll definitely see you around, right?”

“Yeah! Bet on it!” I wave as we leave the shop. Once we’re a good ways away, Little Sister From Hell walks backwards to glare at me.

“What the hell was that, Mr. I Can’t Make Friends?” She demands.

“What?” I slurp my free smoothie triumphantly. “He was just friendly.”

“Yeah, and you absolutely aced that conversation like a pro. You didn’t awkwardly change topics or embarrass yourself or, worse, me, at all!”

“Really?” I shrug. “Why are you making such a big deal out of it? You know I’m an extrovert.”

“You’re the most introverted extrovert I’ve ever met.”

“That’s adequate.”

“That guy could be your friend!” My younger sister is bouncing at the idea, but it makes me stop walking.

“What? No. He’s not gonna be my friend.”

“Why not? You guys totally clicked!”

“I don’t even know the guy. I said he’s just friendly. Besides, he probably has a bunch of friends from school and doesn’t need to hang out with me.”

“Just because he has a lot of friends doesn’t mean he doesn’t have room for one more!” She chirps, and sprints ahead before I can argue. Groaning, I chase after her, because it’d be embarrassing if I lost to her and I barely have any dignity left to lose. 

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I told Chris I won’t be able to see him again til Thursday cause on Wednesday my parents insist on a family day out.

“We haven’t been able to spend time all together since we moved,” my dad explains as we all pile into the car, my sisters immediately hogging the middle row. “It took a while to adjust to working here, but now we’ve got time for you kiddos!” His gaze lingers on me in the rearview mirror. I pretend it doesn’t and stare down at my phone. 

My mom suggested going to the beach, but my sisters clamored for downtown. They want to shop and decide which restaurants they like or don’t like. They argue the whole ride there about whether they want Korean food or Western food, and the drive is longer than the walk I took into downtown because of traffic. I plug in my earbuds. 

Then it starts raining, even though it’s mid August. Rain always gets my mood down. It was raining on the three worst days of my life. They weren’t even consecutive days. It was just three awful coincidences. So of course I stare out the car window at the rain that spatters so close to my face and think of how it looked against my bathroom window as I thought about swallowing my whole bottle of antidepressants. 

Fun memories. I don’t like that they followed me here across the sea.

I imagine the rain washing the bad thoughts away and sweeping them down the gutter. We’re going to a mall, and then we’ll probably get Western food because my older sister misses pizza. I couldn’t care less about what we eat. I just wish it were tomorrow so I can see Chris again.

I want to tell him about Seungmin from the smoothie shop. It bothers me that my little sister was so insistent on me being friends with the guy. Just because I don’t bomb one human interaction doesn’t mean anything special. It just means I’m improving. And it’s probably thanks to Chris.

I smile subconsciously. Really, before I met Chris, I could barely talk to anyone. Like, can’t even order for myself at a restaurant, talk to anyone. And then I went and struck up a casual conversation with a boy I’d never met. Who am I becoming?

“Whatcha thinking about?” My noona swings her head back to wiggle her eyebrows at me. 

“Who? Who?” My younger sister asks.

“Felix. He’s smiling all creepily to himself.”

“Okay fine, I’ll just sit here with a straight face, then,” I say in a huff.

“You meet someone cute here already?”

“There was a cute boy at the smoothie place yesterday!” My little sister throws me under the bus. “Felix talked to him.”

“You talked to someone?” It’s offensive that Mom sounds so delighted. “That’s great, sweetheart!”

“You make it sound difficult,” I grumble. My parents exchange glances. Conversation _is_ difficult for me, and we all know it. Doesn’t mean I have to admit it, though.

I trail behind them at the mall. My older sister wants to go into Hot Topic, and my little sister wants Forever 21. I honestly don’t even know where I get the clothes I wear. They just show up in my drawer. My mom probably buys them, which is why my sweaters are too big and my jeans just a bit tight.

The mall means we’re safe from the rain, but I can hear it even from the restaurant as we order dinner. Me and noona split a pizza and I treat myself to a soda since I don’t have to pay. I order for us and my parents look at me in shock. I shrug it off. We talk about the show we’re all watching together and crack jokes only families can share, and it’s nice and I get to avoid thinking about anything to do with friends for a while. Families are nice like that. I’m lucky enough to get along with mine, even after all the shit I’ve put them through. I’m surprised they can still stand me. I’m actually pretty sure my mom has had a gray streak in her hair for the past year because of me. Well, from the first time I made an attempt. 

Just like that my smile vanishes. I shouldn’t have been dumb enough to trigger myself like that. I have to physically dig my nails into my palms, because my first attempt was the scariest and most violent and I have to fight the urge to grab something sharp and do it all over again.

“Lix?”

I must’ve done something that gave it away. Four sets of concerned eyes are looking at me.

“Sorry,” I mumble, because there’s no use trying to lie. “Bad thoughts.”

“How about ice cream?” Dad suggests, and that lifts everyone’s moods.

“I’m gonna gain so much weight from the past couple days,” I say. “Smoothie. Soda. Ice cream.”

“You’re seventeen. You’ll live.” Mom flicks my ear as she takes a bite of noona’s chocolate fudge cone.

I grin impishly as we step outside the mall. It stopped raining. The sky has actually totally cleared up, and the stars wink down at us as we troop back to our car. The stars. Chris was just talking about the stars. What was he saying? Something about Greek mythology. He’s into stuff like that. I asked why he doesn’t study it. He says he used to, but marine biology has always been his passion. Growing up in Sydney, he said, the ocean was always there. It meant comfort and it meant home. I get that. It’s the same for me.

We lived close to the beach in Sydney. I can’t even imagine not being able to hear the waves crashing at night, the lull of the tide as I drift off to sleep. The ocean is more special at night. It’s empty and quiet but it glows and it’s full of life. The ocean makes me think of that in-between point between awakeness and sleep. When you’re neither here nor there, yet still exist. Simply hanging in the balance waiting for life to push you onward like the waves against the shore.

I think about it some more as I hear the waves outside my window that night. I try to focus on the feeling of in-between, try to cling to what it feels like for as long as I can hold on, but eventually I slip under and the waves wash me out to my dreams. 

∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿

I see Chris the next night and I tell him all about the boy from the smoothie shop. I tell him how easily conversation came to me, and I tell him about ordering at the restaurant and how surprised my parents were.

“I think it’s because of you,” I say eagerly, and he looks surprised. “Really. Before I met you, I couldn’t even order for myself. I couldn’t talk to anyone or anything.”

Chris folds his arms behind his head. “Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know! Talking to you is so much easier than everything else.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah! It’s easier than my family and thinking about school and it’s easier than painting.”

“You told me about your painting.” Chris stretches as he looks at me. “How’s it going?” 

“Great!” I bounce excitedly as I talk. I’ve had so much energy lately. Like, I actually feel the urge to get out of my house and do stuff. “I’ve been painting in more daytime settings, actually.”

“That’s great! Expanding your abilities is always a promising sign of growth,” Chris assures me. He glances around. We’re meeting earlier than we normally do, around 5pm. Our little stretch of beach is deserted, but the sun is still out in all its glory. “How about we play a game?”

“A game?” I echo.

“Yeah! Ooh, how about….” Chris drums his fingers on his chin. “Okay, how about we give each other five minutes, and we have to collect shells to make necklaces for each other. But we can’t show each other what they look like till we’re done!” 

“And we have to wear them every time we come here,” I add.

“Deal.” We shake hands.

I start a timer on my phone. “Okay… five minutes… starting… now!” 

Chris dashes off to the other side of the rocks. I giggle to myself as I venture closer to the water where all the shells have washed up. I decide to collect the weirdest shaped ones I can find. And I’ll make sure he wears them, too. 

I pick up about half a dozen seashells and begin to ponder how many will actually fit on a necklace, and how big a necklace we’re talking here.

“How much time is left?” Chris calls from the other side of the rock.

I pull out my phone. “Three minutes.”

“Hah! Plenty of time.”

I grin. I bend back over to scoop up more shells.

“Felix?” 

The shells come tumbling out of my hands.

“Noona?” 

My older sister is coming down the path towards my secret beach, looking confused. 

“What are you doing down here?” I ask, crouching to pick up the shells again.

She ignores the question. “Who were you talking to?” She glances around, but of course she won’t see anyone.

“Oh— you should meet Chris,” I say, because it is kind of weird that I’ve been continuously meeting with this guy my family’s never met. 

I round the jutting rock that Chris had scampered off behind. But when I get to the other side, noona right behind me, there’s no one there. 

Huh.

I look down, and resting on the sand just a few inches from my feet, are a pile of sparkly blue and purple shells. They look like professionally polished shells you can rarely find on a beach. They’re beautiful, and they already have a string looped through them.

“We were making necklaces for each other,” I explain dumbly. “Look, here’s the one he made.”

“Uh huh,” noona says, because there’s clearly no one here but us. “Well, can you come help us make dinner when you’re done playing by yourself?”

“I’m not by myself, Chris—” I gesture helplessly to the ocean.

“Yeah, your imaginary friend can come too.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s not imaginary. He’s just shy. He probably heard you and got skittish and ran off.”

“Okay. Well, invite him to dinner some time.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t know how else to convince her. 

I pick up the necklace Chris made. I don’t understand where he could have gone off to so quickly. All that was left behind was a strong scent of the salty sea air. Chris always smells like sea salt. 

Also, we’re on a beach. 

“Dad wants you to run to the bakery tomorrow and pick us up some donuts,” she tells me on our way up.

“Do I have to run, though? Can’t it be a brisk walk? Or even a leisurely walk?”

She rolls her eyes. “You can drive if you want.” She gives me a side-eyed look. “You didn’t use to be this lively.”

“I know. It’s the beach air, it’s getting to me,” I exaggerate with a waggle of my eyebrows. 

“....Whatever you say.”

My parents give scrutinizing looks over dinner. “So where were you, sweetie?” Mom asks, and I remember I need to get into the habit of telling people where I’m going.

Noona raises an eyebrow at me. I swallow. “Taking a walk on the beach,” I explain. “Needed to clear my head.”

“I see,” Mom says. Then she and Dad share the look. The one that means they’ve been talking about me when I’m not there. I know the look well, because I’ve seen it three times before. 

Later tonight as I’m sitting in bed watching a cake decorating ASMR, Mom comes to sit beside me. 

“Felix,” she says gently, and I feel like I’m about to be in trouble.

“What did I do?” I ask immediately.

“Nothing,” Mom says with a quick laugh. “It’s just….” I remove my earbuds slowly. “There are only so many long walks on the beach at night that a young man can take before his parents begin to suspect there’s a special someone he’s keeping from them.”

Oh. They think I’m seeing someone. I mean, I am seeing someone, but not in that way. How can I explain Chris without it seeming creepy?

“I honestly am taking walks on the beach,” I defend myself. “Well, not walks. Just sitting. And talking.” She waits for me to continue without speaking. “I met someone.”

Mom looks like she wants to say something, but she knows if she interrupts now, I’ll never tell her. 

“He’s from Australia too, and maybe it’s because we can speak English, but talking to him is what’s been helping me open up lately.” I wiggle my toes awkwardly. “It’s probably why I was able to talk to that boy at the smoothie place and order for myself yesterday.”

“I see,” Mom says. “Can we meet this boy, if he’s making you feel this way?”

I flush. “Mom, it’s not like that.”

“I beg to differ, my little bisexual disaster.”

“Honest! It’s not!”

“Alright, well… at least invite him over for dinner.”

“That’s what noona said,” I sulk.

“Oh? Did your noona meet this boy?”

“No,” I say slowly, fingering the seashell necklace looped around my neck. “He left before she could see him.”

“He left?” Mom frowns. “Why did he leave?”

“I dunno. I didn’t see him go. He was just gone.”

“I see.” Mom seems deep in thought. That can’t be good. 

“It’s not like he just vanished into thin air,” I clarified. “We didn’t see him on the beach, but he could have gone up the rock and along the path above the beach.” 

“Why would he leave like that, though?” Mom pressed. I shake my head. I don’t get why she’s so persistent about this.

“He’s shy around new people. I think he heard noona’s voice and got spooked.”

“Your noona’s not a scary person, though,” Mom protests.

“I know, but he doesn’t know her.” 

Mom sighs. She drums her fingers on her leg and then looks at me. “People don’t just vanish into thin air, Felix.”

I frown. “I… know.” Why is she telling me something so stupidly obvious? “That would defy the laws of physics. And science in general.”

Mom raises her hand and hesitates before patting my head. “Get some sleep tonight, alright? No sneaking out to meet your boyfriend.” She’s making a joke but her tone is too heavy for me to find it funny. I just roll my eyes and put my earbuds back in my ears. My eyes stay fixed on her as she leaves my room and closes the door. I hear her whispering with my dad outside. 

Whatever they’re talking about, I’ll deal with it in the morning with the blissful addition of donuts.

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My mom’s attempted conversation hangs over my head the next morning as well. I’m grouchy as Dad hands me the keys and lets me drive to the bakery downtown. I plug my phone in and let Twice blast through the car, because there’s no one else with me to complain about the volume of Cheer Up.

But even Jihyo can’t cheer me up by the time I park outside the bakery, the scent of freshly baked donuts and pastries flooding my senses already. 

It’s morning, but the bakery is crowded. Of course half of Busan is here to get their morning donuts too. But unlike before, I can’t let that scare me off.

I slip through the door and squeeze through the packed store to the counter. To my left is a slightly sunken level with tables and chairs, and before me are more sitting areas and the bakery shelf. I glance down at the list in my hand of everything my dad requested. What do we need a dozen pastries for if there’s only five of us?

Ordering isn’t fun. The guy behind the counter stares at me, unimpressed, as I quietly stumble through the list. My mind is still on Mom’s words from last night, and my newfound confidence has taken its leave. I struggle with reading Dad’s handwriting a few times, and the cashier, a cute kid named Eric, keeps asking me to repeat myself. He gets more and more annoyed with me as I hold up the line. I want to apologize to everyone but that would involve turning around and seeing a dozen strangers’ pissed off faces.

I order a dozen assorted pastries and a coffee for myself. I move over to the side in relief as I wait for them to package up my order. I’m standing right above the lower eating level, and I lean against the railing, voices drifting up from below. There’s a booth directly behind me.

“So _then_ I was like, well how _dare_ you not invite me if we both know I’d be the life of the party, right? But she _tripped_ me on my way out, like bitch? Can you not see? Unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable,” echoes a second voice. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I don’t have anyone to talk to and my order is taking a long time and well, I’m intrigued by someone who sounds like they’re a boy my age, alright?.

“And that was, like, the final straw. So I said, I don’t even care if you invite me next time. I’m not coming.”

“Tell them,” the second voice encourages. 

“So how’d that sound? Convincing?” The first voice asks eagerly.

“Pretty convincing, yeah.” The second voice is silky smooth, but it sounds on the verge of laughter.

“Good. So that’s what I’ll say next time someone asks me why I wasn’t invited to a party.”

“I really don’t think anyone will be missing you at parties.”

I’m jolted out of listening when my order is ready. I carefully pick up the box and maneuver my way down the stairs so I can drink my coffee before I drive back.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, the two boys in the booth I’d been listening to are getting up. They round the corner so fast I don’t have time to see them, and both me and the box of pastries end up on the floor.

“Oh, shit! My bad, man.”

My bad mood is now worse. I squint up in annoyance, but my anger dies as I realize I’m staring up at the most attractive person I’ve ever seen. He’s tall, but of course he is because I’m on the ground. His hair is bleached to a honey gold, and it’s long and tied back in a ponytail but it’s a _look_ and doesn’t even look bad. His skin is tanned, his lips full and his eyes concerned. 

“Uh,” I say.

Then the person who’d spoken clears his throat. “Do you want some help?” My eyes drift down to the other boy. He’s not quite as nice to look at, and I feel no guilt in observing so. He’s definitely the one who’d been talking first. I accept his help in picking up the box— only one donut escaped— and feel my eyes latch onto his face. He’s shorter than the pretty boy, with choppy dark hair and soft, round cheeks and eyes full of mischief. 

“Sorry again,” the boy says. I ignore him and turn to sit somewhere else. “Hey, are you new? I’ve never seen you around.”

How can everyone here know the place so well they can pick out a new face so quickly?

I ignore the question and sit down. Annoyingly, he follows me over. “Oh, so I’m getting the silent treatment now. That’s fair. Not the first time I’ve been faced with such an adversary.”

Then he has the nerve to _sit down across from me._

“Say, you think I could have a donut? I mean, you’ve got so many.”

“They’re for my family,” I quip. I slurp my coffee to be annoying. 

The boy’s eyes widen. His friend is hovering nearby uncertainly. “Wow. That is a _voice._ I just got, like, ten times more attracted to you.”

I choke on my coffee. How can— how can this stranger just say something like that to someone he doesn’t know?

“It’s funny, cause your face makes you look all cute and innocent and then your _voice—_ like, that’s insane.” He pitches his voice down but it doesn’t reach as low as mine. “What’s your name, anyway?”

I sip my coffee and block out his voice.

“I’m Jisung. Han Jisung.” He sticks out his hand and I stare at it for a moment before looking back down at my coffee. 

“Can you stop tormenting this guy?” JIsung’s friend cuts in. “You’re gonna give yourself an arch nemesis before school even starts.”

“Don’t tempt me with an arch nemesis, Hyunjin, you know how badly I want to be living in an anime.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry about him,” he tells me. “I don’t know how I put up with him either.” 

I also don’t understand why someone who looks like Hyunjin would choose to hang around someone like Jisung.

“Well, I’m sorry for being myself,” Jisung huffs. “I’ll make it up to you next time I see you, okay?” 

I finish my coffee and stand up, balancing the box nervously in my arms. 

“Hey, I didn’t catch your name!” Jisung follows me to the front door.

“Felix,” I tell him before he smacks into the wall beside the door.

I’m more than glad to climb into my car and leave Jisung behind. I wonder what Chris will think of him. I’m going to talk to him again tonight. I’ll ask him why he ran off. 

Dad asks if I had any trouble getting the donuts. I say everything was fine, and he gives Mom a look. I turn around before he can ask me anything else.

∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿

Jisung slips from my thoughts as the clock ticks closer to evening. It’s still light out when I make my way down to the beach. 

Chris isn’t there when I arrive. I sit down by myself uncertainly, but I only wait for a minute before I see him sit down in the corner of my eye.

He grins at me but I don’t smile back. “Where did you go?” I burst out. I don’t want to be mad at him but I want an answer.

Chris rubs his arms uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I’m really shy around strangers.”

I sigh. “My family thinks you don’t exist.”

Chris laughs. “What about you?”

I roll my eyes. “What do you expect me to say? _No?_ You’re right in front of me.” I push him over into the sand.

Chris laughs and rolls back up, and we both turn to look up at the stormy gray clouds swirling above our heads. 

“It’s gonna rain tonight,” I say sadly. 

“Nah, it’s not,” Chris says. We lie down on our backs next to each other. 

“What do you mean? It looks like it’ll pour any second,” I point out.

Chris shrugs. “It’s just not a night for rain.”

I don’t tell him about Jisung. Something in my brain wants to keep the encounter in the bakery separate from what I have with Chris. So I tell him I want to bake brownies instead, and he claps excitedly and tells me to bring him some. 

∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿

“Let’s eat outside,” I say when Mom asks me to set the table for dinner.

Noona raises her eyebrows at me. “You crazy? It’s gonna rain.”

I shake my head. “No it’s not.”

“Felix, the outside table is under the overhang but it’ll still be windy.”

“I know. But it’ll be fine.” I stare out the window as the thunderclouds roll closer. “It’s just not a night for rain.”

I refuse to let up, and so we carry our barbeque outside. Mom looks worriedly up at the sky as we lay out silverware.

Just as we’re bringing out the food on plates, the clouds drift apart. The sky is clear by the time we sit down to eat.

“Amazing,” Dad remarks. He looks at me in surprise. “You were right.”

Chris was right. Somehow, he knew. I smile up at the sun as it sinks towards the ground.

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I bake brownies for the next night and carry them in a tupperware down to the beach. I’ve wrapped them up gently, giddy with excitement and eager to see Chris again. 

He’s overjoyed when I hand him the container. “They’re extra fudgy,” I tell him.

“Awesome.” He grins. “I’ll give it back to you next time I see you, alright?”

“Sure.” 

We talk about Australia and everything we miss. I tell him about what my mom told me, how my family is worried about me. He asks why they’re worried. I hesitate. Should I tell him the truth? We’ve been friends for weeks now and we’ve talked so honestly. I’ve opened up more to him than anyone else. 

“They’re scared that the same thing that happened at home will happen here,” I say. Chris doesn’t ask for more. He senses I’m on the edge of coming clean. He waits patiently.

I watch the ocean waves as they creep closer to where our feet rest close together. Comforting and consistent. They keep no secrets from each other, the bursting blue giving way to confident clear as the waves surge closer to the shore. Revealing everything it keeps underneath in a trusting promise to those who venture into its depths. Trust. Do I trust Chris?

“Three times,” I end up saying. Chris is watching me, but I keep my eyes on the waves.  
“Once with pills, once with razors, once on the roof of a building.” The waves lap gently against the sand, washing away the layers abused by wear and wiping them clean. “But never by water. Never trying to… drown myself.”

Chris is quiet for a while after that. “Why not?” He asks eventually. It’s a fair question, but I’m not expecting it. 

“Water always seemed like such a force of life,” I answer. “It seems wrong to take something so alive and use it to end my life.”

“But you’re still here,” Chris points out.

“I’m still here,” I agree.

“There’s a reason for that, then,” Chris says confidently. “The ocean wants you to stay.”

“The ocean?” I ask in confusion.

“Water keeps you alive. You didn’t want to twist its purpose. You respect it, and so it respects you.” Chris traces patterns in the sands. “I guess it didn’t want to lose such a valuable friend.”

“Huh.” I’ve always relied on the ocean, but it never occurred to me that the ocean might rely on me too. “My parents never really knew what to do with me. They just shoved me in front of therapist after therapist but it’s _so hard_ to talk to strangers and they’d act like it was my fault for not opening up—”

Chris places a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t let that get to you. You have your own way of healing.” 

I return his soft smile. The sand shifts beneath me. I shriek.

“What? What’s wrong?” Chris jumps to his feet beside me. “Oh. It’s a tiny crab.”

“Kill it! Kill it!” My arms are wrapped around Chris’s neck and I’m practically hanging off him.

“I’m not gonna kill it! It’s not doing anything wrong.” He sits us back down and pets my hair in amusement. “It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute! It’s scary! It’ll bite me!” I wail. The crab slides closer to me as if to prove my point. 

“That’s no reason to kill it.” Chris leans forward and picks up the crab in one large hand. It snaps a pincer at him but does not much else. “See? It’s a nice crab.”

“I guess,” I admit, my heart still hammering.

“Just because something looks scary doesn’t mean it is,” Chris continues, placing the tiny creature back down. The crab burrows into the sand and disappears. “It still has a life and a family and a heart.”

“Now you’re making me feel bad.”

Chris grins. “Sorry. Maybe it’s because I’m a marine biology major, but I always keep in mind that every life is precious. You’re no more important than that little crab. No offense.”

“Well, now I know how you really feel about me.”

Chris laughs. “Once you’re my age, you might understand more.”

“Your age?” I cackle. I don’t know how old he actually is, but it’s only a few years older than me.

“Do you want to head home soon?” Chris asks. The sun has set and it’s dark. An idea pops into my head.

Chris walks me to the end of the beach. “Why do you always stop here?” I ask.

“My house is in the opposite direction,” he explains. I fold my arms. “What? You want me to walk you home?”

I nod.

Chris huffs. “Alright. If you’re gonna be fussy about it.”

Chris holds on to the tupperware full of brownies as we walk, me leading the way to my house while he keeps up with my longer legs. 

“Here.” I stop outside my house. The lights are on, but my parents are probably watching TV and my sisters are in their rooms. Maybe if I make enough noise someone will pop their head out and see Chris standing here, holding my brownies. 

“Goodnight, then,” Chris says awkwardly. 

“Huh? Oh, goodnight.” We stare at each other. I’ve never talked to him anywhere other than the beach, and this feels weird. “Do you wanna come in? We have hot chocolate.”

Chris shakes his head. “Nah, sorry. I’ve gotta get home.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” I could call for someone to come outside, but Chris is shy and that’d be rude. So I say goodnight to him and he walks off.

It doesn’t occur to me until I’m inside, in my room, starting a new painting, that Chris was barefoot the whole time.

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In my dreams I’m on the beach again, but this time I’m by myself. The beach lifts me up until I’m on a hill above the ocean, but it doesn’t look threatening. It’s just trying to tell me something. From way up high, I see the waves cascade towards the shore, packed with people milling about. On the other side of an outcrop of rock is my special strip of beach I share with Chris. 

The hill moves until I’m above that strip of beach, and I see Chris, far below, sitting on his own. He’s saying something, talking to the sea, but I’m too far away to hear.

I run out of green paint the next morning. I don’t use green a lot but I’ve been using it more recently. The ocean in my paintings has turned from gray and dark to blue and green, colorful and full of life. Just like how I see it when I’m with Chris.

I walk into downtown. There’s an art store that should have paints and other supplies I’m interested in. 

Thankfully, it’s pretty deserted when I set foot inside. I browse the aisles, admiring the pretty painting materials and canvases on display.

“Must be fate if I’m seeing you here.”

I whirl around. He’s grinning but I’m cursing fate if what he said was true.

Jisung stands on the opposite end of the aisle, hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts. He has a cap pulled on over his messy hair and a bag slung over the shoulder of his tank top. “What brings you around here?”

“Paint,” I say simply.

It should be obvious but he still looks surprised. “Really? You paint?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool!” Jisung comes to stand in front of me even though I’ve given him no indication that I’m enjoying this conversation. “What do you paint?”

“The ocean, usually.”

“Really? You like the ocean, then?” He barrels on before I can reply. “Well, obviously, it’s right there. But you’re new, aren’t you?”

“There’s a beach near where I’m from, too.” I move to a different aisle and Jisung comes with me. 

“Oh? In Australia?” 

I pause. “How’d you know?”

“Your accent.”

I cringe. Of course he’d notice. “My accent’s bad, I know. I’m not fluent.”

“No no, it wasn’t that. I’m just really good at picking out stuff like that. Promise. I lived in Malaysia for a couple years so I picked up some English. I bet mine’s way worse than your Korean.”

My mouth quirks up in a smile. I can see how Hyunjin finds his talkativeness endearing.

I find the paint I’m looking for and step up to the checkout counter.

“I like to write song lyrics,” Jisung tells me. I’m not sure if he’s here to buy something or just talk my ear off. “I’ve been writing about the ocean a lot these days. I think it’s so interesting how it can inspire people in different ways. Like, me through words, but for you it’s visually.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hey, do you think I could see some of your paintings?”

I stop. “What?”

“Yeah! Did you walk here? We could walk back together. Just a quick peek. I’m really curious.”

“They’re private.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, that’s cool.” Jisung keeps pace with me as I leave the store. 

“I’ve never shown them to anyone else.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this. He just pulls the words right out of me.

“Really? Is that, like, a conscious decision on your part, or did it just work out like that?” 

“Dunno.”

“Is this the beach you like to come to?” Jisung points as we pass it, heading into the beachside village where I live. Either he lives nearby, or he’s seriously insistent on following me home. 

“There’s a smaller part I go to.” We veer off the street and follow the sandy path to the rock outcrop where I meet Chris on the beach. “I’ve never gone with anyone else, though.”

“You just sit here by yourself?”

“Not by myself,” I correct before I realize my mistake. Jisung looks confused. “I have this friend….”

By the time we reach my house I’ve told Jisung all about Chris. “I wish I could befriend a random hot guy on the beach. Where’s mine? He got any Aussie friends?”

“I’m his Aussie friend,” I point out as I unlock the door. 

“Oh, I guess. Hold on, are you really letting me see your paintings?”

I pause. “You said you wanted to see them.”

“Well yeah, but then you were all like—” He deepens his voice. _“They’re private._ So I figured it was a no-no. I live near here anyway, I can get home pretty quickly.”

I hesitate. “It’s fine.” Maybe I’ve secretly been desperate to share them with someone all along.

“You sure? I don’t wanna intrude if you’re not comfortable.”

“I said it’s fine.” 

We kick off our shoes and I lead him to my room. It’s weird that this is only the second time we’ve met and he’s already in my house. It’s weird that he sees my room before Chris does. 

I flip on the light and he sees my room in all its messy glory. Paintings are stacked on my desk and against the walls, and Jisung darts forward to examine them all. 

I sit on my bed nervously. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe he’d be underwhelmed and say “Cool” and leave. I wasn’t expecting him to pull one off the walls and beg me to discuss the symbolism with him. And then another, and another.

“Are these supposed to tell a story? They’re taken from very similar angles but the color palette changes with each one.”

“I don’t think it was intentional.”

“Yes, but you could sell them by saying it was.”

I laugh. Okay, so Jisung’s humor is growing on me. That doesn’t mean we’re _friends_ or anything. Besides, I don’t need another friend. I have Chris. One is enough.

I send him off not long after, but he only leaves after letting us exchange phone numbers. He sends me a cat meme to save as his contact picture, and I laugh so hard at the dinner table my water comes out my nose. 

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“Where are you going, Felix?” Mom calls out to me from the living room after dinner.

“I’m going to the beach,” I explain hastily. 

“That sounds like a great idea!” Dad appears over her shoulder. “Why don’t we all go to the beach together?”

I freeze. “I’m meeting Chris, though.”

“Then it’s a good opportunity for us all to meet him too.”

Chris is shy and doesn’t like new people. It’s not nice for me to show up with my whole family unexpectedly. But I can’t exactly let him know beforehand, can I? 

“Fine.” 

Mom makes the whole family traipse down to the beach. We veer off the path and I feel a guilty pang in my chest as I lead them to my secret spot behind the rock outcropping. 

“Chris?” I call out. The beach is dark and empty. “If he’s not here yet, he might see you all and get scared off,” I warn them. 

“So… you want us all to hide from your imaginary—” Noona elbows our younger sister. “Sorry, your real friend?” 

Something catches my eye. I walk forward and bend down to pick up the container of brownies from yesterday. It’s empty now.

“See?” I hold it up triumphantly like a trophy. “I gave this to him yesterday with brownies inside.”

“Why would he just leave it here and go?” Noona asks.

“I… don’t know.”

“Maybe you just left it here yesterday on accident,” Mom suggests. 

“What? No. He took it from me. Besides, how would it be empty now if I left it here?” 

“Maybe someone came by and ate them,” Dad tries.

“Nobody else even comes here! I’m telling you. I gave them to Chris. Now he’s giving the tupperware back. What’s so hard to understand?” I’m losing my temper and it’s making my arms tremble, the container shaking in my hands.

“Alright.” Mom reluctantly backs off. “How about we all take a walk on the beach and see if he’s shown up by the time we get back?”

She leads us back to the main beach, and half an hour later we return to my spot. It’s just as empty as before. The waves seem to lap at my feet as if in apology.

We head home in defeat. Well, me in defeat. My family in utter bewilderment. 

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The next day is rough as well. Mom comes into my room while I’m sketching for my next painting. I’m trying out trees.

“Did you have a friend over yesterday?” She prompts.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I guess. We’re not really friends. He’s just some guy I met and he wanted to see my paintings.”

“Really?” She almost falls off my bed in joy. “Does he go to your school?”

“I think so, yeah.”

She ignores my earlier statement. “That’s amazing! It’s so great that you have a friend.”

“I don’t need more friends, though. I have—” I cut myself off because I know what she’ll say.

“It’s good for you to have a _real_ friend who you can hang out at school with.” Mom winces. “We’re getting a bit worried about you Felix, but this makes me feel better.”

“What are you worried about?” I ask as if I don’t know the answer.

Mom sighs. “I talked to one of your old therapists the other day.”

“What?” I sit up. “Mom, you know they were all awful!”

“Mrs. Lee was very nice. But anyway, I spoke to her on the phone. She told me that maybe since we just moved, and you’ve always struggled with isolation and loneliness, that maybe….”

“Maybe what?” I ask suspiciously. I scoot farther from her on the bed. 

“Maybe your brain conjured up a friend for you so you would feel less lonely.”

“What?” She’s making my head and my heart hurt. That makes no sense. She thinks my mind created Chris all on its own? 

“It’d be better for you to make friends you can have real, stronger connections with,” Mom continues quickly. “What about Binnie?”

“Binnie?” I almost laugh. “I’m not gonna talk to Binnie.” Binnie was my childhood best friend. I met him when his family moved to Australia from Korea when he was a kid and then moved back. I was the only one who didn’t make fun of him for how he spoke English. “Like I’d even be able to find him now.”

“I’m friends with him on Facebook.” Of course my little sister was eavesdropping. “He’s hot now. Also gay. And very politically active. Quite progressive.”

“Really? Good for Binnie!” Mom gives me a promising smile like this means anything.

“I”m _not_ talking to Binnie,” I groan. They take this as their key to leave. I wonder what Chris will think of their theories.

∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿

I take a nap before lunch and regret it. I wake up feeling restless and antsy but not motivated enough to do anything. So when the opportunity arises to go out, go somewhere with someone, I jump at the first chance.

_Han Jisung: whatchu up to today?? :-D_

_Me: nothing lmao_

_Han Jisung: wanna hit the mall?_

Jisung insists on picking me up from my house so we can drive over together. “Wouldn’t want either of us to have to do that awkward thing where we stand outside by ourselves waiting for the other person to show up,” he explains with a grin. I appreciate that a lot and surprise myself by telling him so.

“I'm way more introverted than you’d think,” Jisung says. “I honestly don’t even know why anyone would wanna hang out with me, so thanks.” 

I shrug. “Not like I had anything else to do.” I add in a friendly punch to his shoulder so he doesn’t think I’m serious. 

Neither of us really know what to do at the mall, so we see a movie and hit up the aquarium, to my delight. I recite to Jisung a bunch of fish facts I learned from Chris. He enthusiastically accepts them all. 

“Do you wanna see the jellyfish or the sharks next?” He asks as we enter yet another darkened, glowing hallway.

“Jellyfish!” I sprint forward excitedly, and he yelps in surprise at my sudden enthusiasm. I tug him along by the hand the whole way.

I get so caught up in hanging out with Jisung that I forget all about my stress about school, moving, even how bad I am at talking to people. When we leave the aquarium and stop for snacks, Jisung takes care of ordering. 

We got to the mall a little after lunch, and it’s almost dinnertime now. 

“You want me to drop you back home? Or do you wanna eat out?” Jisung shifts his weight uncertainly. “I just don’t wanna make this seem like a date, is all.”

Oh. That hadn’t even occurred to me. “Either is fine.” Part of me doesn’t want to go back home. I want to stay away from my parents’ worried glances and hushed whispers as long as possible. “Let’s eat here.”

We sit in the corner of a noodle bar and talk about senior year. “You haven’t seen campus yet, right?” Jisung asks as he slurps an insane amount of noodles into his mouth at insane speed.

I pause mid shake of the head to stare. Jisung eats like a hamster, stuffing food into his cheeks and storing it there while he eats. 

“What?” He asks defensively when he catches me staring. “I’m sensitive about my cheeks, alright, man?”

I snort. “Right. Sorry.” 

He adds more noodles slowly. I watch in fascination as he tucks them away into the folds of his mouth. “Stop!” Jisung wails.

“I’m sorry! It’s cute!” I lower my voice to an inside-appropriate pitch. “You look like a squirrel.”

“People usually say I’m more like a quokka,” Jisung corrects. I make a mental note and adjust his contact name accordingly. Jisung’s cat meme will keep me from forgetting who _Annoying Quokka_ is. “So, anyway, campus, right? You don’t know what the school looks like,” Jisung continues quickly. “I could always take you over there, give you a look around.”

I frown. “Isn’t it closed for the summer?”

Jisung shrugs. “Only so much _closing_ you can do when ya boy can jump fences.”

My mouth pops open. “You want to break in?”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s deserted right now. We’d just take a peak around the grounds and the halls to give you an idea of what to expect.”

I feel my nerves squirm. “Maybe. I’ll— I’ll think about it.”

Jisung pays for dinner and drives me back home, which only makes it seem more datelike. He insists it’s to pay me back for spending so much of my time with him. I tell him I’d do it for free, and I realize I mean it. It’d be hard for me to deny that Jisung is my friend right now.

My friend. I grab for my phone with lightning speed, making Jisung squawk in alarm. “Shit! I told Chris I’d meet him at the beach half an hour ago.”

“Do you want me to drop you off there instead?” Jisung asks.

“Oh, yes please!”

The beach is dark and empty when Jisung pulls into a spot in the lot above. “Let’s go take a look,” he suggests.

We venture down to the beach together. When it’s clear there’s no one there, we sit down side by side. 

“It’s been a few days since I’ve seen Chris,” I confess. “I feel like he’s avoiding me.”

Jisung frowns. “Why would he be avoiding you?”

“Well, my family doesn’t think he’s real. Whenever I come with them when I’m supposed to meet him, he’s not there.”

Jisung leans back, deep in thought. I think for a moment he’s going to call me crazy, say they’re right. He speaks, but it’s not what I’m expecting. “Maybe he’s a ghost.”

I splutter in shock, because that’s not something I’ve heard before. “A what?”

“Yeah. A ghost. Like, they won’t be able to see him. Maybe he’s not showing up so they don’t think you’re crazy if only you can see him.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, Jisung.”

“Sure they are!” Jisung tosses a pebble up in the air, but he’s lying down and it lands smack on his face. “Ow.”

I burst out laughing. Jisung gives me a wide eyed stare. “What?” I snap.

“I’ve never seen you laugh like that,” Jisung says. “It scared me.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“No, seriously! I’m glad you can laugh, I was getting a bit concerned about your humanity.”

Talking to Jisung is fun. It’s not as easy and relaxing as talking to Chris, but I don’t have to filter myself because I know whatever he says will be weirder. 

But what he says does make me think of something.

“Funny, cause I….” I trail off. Jisung raises his eyebrows. “Well, I.... ugh, nevermind. It’ll just sound weird.”

“That’s cool. Weird is better than boring,” Jisung assures me.

“Oh, alright. It’s just, sometimes, when I’m sitting here looking at the ocean, I start to think about how eternal and immortal the sea is. And how short human life is compared to that. Like, we’re born and then we die before we have the time to make a significant impact, so what’s even the point?”

If Jisung is fazed by such a heavy question, he doesn’t let on. “Hm,” he says, deep in thought. “Well, I guess you could say the _point_ is the living we do in between. It’s not just birth and then death. After all, flowers always have to bloom before they wither, right?” I blink. “And the ocean isn’t totally timeless, like— the life within it is always changing. Fish and sea critters die and more are born, so the population is always changing. Just like with people. You just don’t see it on the outside because you only see it from your own eyes.” Jisung smiles at me. “I’m sure if you talked to a fish about this they’d have a totally different story.”

I laugh. “I’ll be sure to talk to my fish friends about this, then.”

“Tell me if any of them taste good, I love me some sushi.”

I shove him and we laugh together, for longer than I think I’ve laughed in my whole life. 

After a while I get tired and head home. I tell Jisung we’ll hang out again, because I’m not stupid and I know I enjoyed that. I’m smiling when I get home and I run straight to my room. 

I’m too excited to sleep. I spent so much time outside of my own house today that I’m still filled with adrenaline. I pull out my phone, and as I open up Facebook, I’m reminded of what my sister said earlier that day. 

Oh, God. I only ever called him Binnie. What the hell was his full name?

It takes me a second to remember, but then I type it in. He pops up almost immediately because we have friends in common. My younger sister was right— he _is_ hot now. And very politically active. His posts are all about women’s rights or LGBT rights or working out. I don’t really mind seeing any of them. 

I type out a message, fingers trembling as I do so. What should I say? _Hey, remember me, we were friends when we were six?_ Or maybe a _What’s up? You remember me, right?_

Or maybe just, _Hey._ I end up sending that. I’ll let him deal with it.

I didn’t realize that he was online, but he responds right away.

_Seo Changbin: OMG felix!!! how have u been buddy_

_Lee Felix: sorry its been so long. just wanted to reach out_

_Seo Changbin: im so happy u did!! ur in korea now right??_

_Lee Felix: yep. Busan._

_Seo Changbin: neat. how u liking life here?_

_Lee Felix: weird. different. but ive met some pretty cool ppl so far!_

_Seo Changbin: thats great!!_

_Lee Felix: thanks for wanting to talk to me :-)_

_Seo Changbin: anytime bub! see u soon :D_

I wonder briefly what he means by that. But then I realize I’m too tired to care. Another idea strikes me, though. I go back to the main page of Facebook and type in _Chris Bang._ There are no results.

That’s not totally alarming. I mean, he said he doesn’t have a phone. So it would make sense he doesn’t have social media. But I can’t find anyone else with that last name who looks like they’d be related to him. I shrug. Whatever. It’s pretty rude to try and stalk him anyway, I muse, so I roll over and go to sleep. 

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I’m going to talk to Chris again tonight. I’m going to, and nothing will stop me. It’s been days since I’ve seen him, but I’m in a good mood. Some combination of spending time with Jisung and reconciling with Binnie has put me in a… _social_ mood? Is that what I can call it? I’ve never felt the urge to go out and talk to someone before, but that’s what I’m doing as my feet lead me to the smoothie shop a few blocks away. 

It’s Friday, a different day than the last time I was here, and I don’t know Seungmin’s working hours, so I don’t know why I’m surprised to see a different guy behind the counter. 

He doesn’t look friendly. His skin is pale, almost white, his cheekbones defined and face delicately sculpted. A wave of midnight colored hair is swept over his eyes. “Hi,” he says. “What can I get you?”

I forget to speak for twenty seconds after that. “Um,” I say.

“That’s not on the menu,” the guy cracks. His name tag says _Kevin._

“The sign,” I say, then pause. I don’t know how to say this in Korean. “Outside,” I try again. “Hiring.”

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah, isn’t it pretty? Made it myself. Yeah, we’re hiring. You interested? I can get you an application if you want.” He turns over his shoulder and hollers, “Oy! Jacob!” 

“No,” I blurt quickly. Why the hell had I even brought that up? 

“Oh.” Kevin rubs his arms awkwardly. “Okay.”

I stare at him for a few more moments, either because I don’t know what to say or he’s very pretty, before I ask, “Do you have coffee?”

“Sure do!” Kevin grins. 

“Okay. One coffee, then.” I’m standing too far away from the counter. I’ll have to move closer. I can’t make my legs move, though.

“Gonna have to be more specific than that, buddy,” Kevin laughs nervously. “You want a latte? Frappuccino?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Which one?” Kevin’s smile fades. He’s starting to look annoyed. No no no. Not good. 

“Latte,” I squeak, because it’s less syllables for me to mess up.

Finally, I force myself to scoot forward and swipe my card. The second the transaction goes through, I turn and bolt out of the shop. It doesn’t occur to me until I’m a block away that I just paid for a drink I then left without. But it’s too awkward to go back for it so I just continue home. 

I hide in my room until it’s time to meet Chris. Thankfully, I’m able to escape without notice. It’s warm out, so I ditch my jacket and make my way to the beach in jeans and a T-shirt. 

Chris is waiting for me, and seeing him sitting there fills me with relief. 

“Chris!” 

He turns and grins once he sees me. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t show up yesterday, I lost track of time,” I explain hurriedly. “I was hanging out with Jisung—”

“Who?”

Oh. Right. I never told Chris about him. 

“This annoying guy I met the other day. Well, I used to think he was annoying, but now I think we might be friends? I don’t really know.”

“Why don’t you know?” Chris asks curiously. 

I flop down beside him. “Well… I don’t really want a friend. Besides you, of course?”

“Why not?” Chris asks curiously. 

“I guess it’s because… well, my family is always pushing me to _make friends_ like it’s simple. I’ve never had an easy time making friends.” I lay down to stargaze beside him. “It takes so much effort for me to talk to someone, and open up to them, so I figure why try in the first place?” I raise my arms and let my fingers trace the patterns in the stars above as I talk.

“Have you changed your mind?” Chris prompts.

“I don’t know!” The words explode out of me as my hand falls back against the beach beside me. Sand sprays up into the air, the windless night letting the grains hover for a moment before they fall back to earth. “I’m not sure if I still feel the same way. I think I do, but I also think I might not.”

“Well, that’s fine. No one’s making you figure it out right now.”

“Right.” I take a breath. “Right. That’s right.”

“You can take all the time you need to figure it out. No one else can do it for you, so no one can tell you how to do it.”

“Hey, you’re right!” I grin at how silly I’m sounding, but Chris is voicing things for me no one else ever has.

“I have an idea,” he says, and before I can ask what it is, he starts stripping off his clothes.

“Um,” I say, and immediately cover my eyes. “What… are you doing?”

I peek through my fingers and realize that Chris has taken off his shirt and also _all_ of his clothing, and is now wading into the ocean fully nude.

“Let’s go skinny dipping!” He declares excitedly. 

“I’m good!” I yell back immediately. “Like really, Imma sit this one out!”

“Come on, Felix!” Chris waves his enviably muscular arms in the air. “It’s fun!”

The idea of doing something crazy and totally out of my comfort zone in the dark where no one can see is surprisingly tempting. I find myself leaning into the idea. “Okay fine, but I’m keeping my boxers on!” Chris grins. “And turn around!”

It takes me twice as long to undress than usual because Chris keeps peeking over his shoulder. 

“Pervert,” I snap as soon as I’m submerged up to my neck. 

“Nothing boosts your confidence more than humiliation,” Chris points out.

“I beg to differ.” 

“Are you really gonna keep something on? It’s much more freeing to go totally uncovered.”

“I’m gonna pretend to not think about what that means.”

We float around for a bit and splash water at each other before I bring up what I wanted to talk about. 

“School starts for me in a week,” I say.

“I know.” Chris twists around to look at me. “You nervous? Wanna talk about it?”

I tilt my head back so my hair can float around like a halo above me. “No, actually. It’s—” I lick my lips. Why am I suddenly so nervous? “You know the end of summer carnival? It’s apparently an annual thing here.”

“Yeah, I know.” Chris smiles. “You thinking of going?”

“Well…” I would never have been able to do this at the beginning of the summer, but now, I think I’m able to handle the awkwardness. “I was wondering if you’d want to go with me?”

Chris hesitates, and I know from the momentary flash of guilt in his eyes what the answer will be. “I’m sorry, Lix, but crowds are really not my scene. I just don’t think I’d feel comfortable—”

“That’s fine!” I say, too quickly. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. I mean, it’s just a carnival, it didn’t sound _that_ fun.”

Chris purses his lips. “Felix, you should go.” 

“Without you? Why?” I ask with a laugh, because it seems preposterous.

“You should go with Jisung and your friends! It’ll still be fun without me, probably even more so—”

“Whoa, since when did hanging with Jisung once suddenly turn into multiple friends? What is with everyone trying to push me to have friends?”

“It’ll be good to have friends, Felix, really.”

I push myself back to shore as fast as I can, which is pretty slowly. Chris trails behind me. “Spending time with people as much as possible is good to do before school starts. It’ll be a lot harder to find people once you have to deal with classes and homework. Besides, a carnival is a great opportunity! You don’t have to talk to a lot of people, you can just have fun and play with your friends—”

“Why don’t you go, then?” I snap. 

The light dies in Chris’s eyes. “I told you—”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Chris doesn’t look away as I climb out of the water, but I don’t really care anymore. “I’d probably have more fun staying home watching Disney movies with my sisters anyway.”

Chris smiles. “Whatever you think is best for you. But if you wake up tomorrow with any doubt that you shouldn’t go to the carnival, I think you should just go for it.” 

I doubt I will, but I say thank you anyway. Talking to Chris has cleared my head. Clearly, no one knows what’s best for me except myself. So going out to spend time with other people is pointless. A carnival will just prove that. 

I go home and shut myself in my room with music and paint. I reach for my colorful blues and greens for the ocean, but my fingers land on gray instead. Somehow, it seems fitting that night to make the ocean a dark and stormy one.

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I tell Jisung that I’m not going to the carnival. He was the one that brought it up the other day in the movie theater, and then a couple times when we talked on the phone after that. It’s been sitting in my mind for a couple days but I haven’t wanted to bring it up until now, when it’s almost upon us. 

The fairgrounds are on the far side of the beachside village, the opposite direction of where I go to the beach. I’ve been able to glimpse them setting up booths and rides for almost a week now. It does look fun, I’ll admit. But the moment I heard about it I knew I wanted to go with Chris, and if that’s not an option, then it’s better to not go at all.

I’ll just stay home and paint. Maybe I’ll watch Tangled. My sisters are going, but I won’t let them change my mind. I reach for my paints and twirl a brush in my hand. The carnival starts at 6, and it’s around 3 right now. I’ll let myself get lost in my painting and forget all about the carnival.

I reach for a bottle and feel my hand close around one that feels almost full. I frown. What is this color I’ve used so little of?

I pull it out of my desk and hold it up in my hand. Red. A bright, cherry shade, bursting with summer joy. Of course there would be no red in my paintings of the ocean. 

What could I do with red? I think of the candy cane striped tents of fantasy circuses, of the neon rainbow lights and sugary sweet freedom that tastes like cotton candy and popcorn and ice cream. 

I sketch the tents as I see them in my mind, splashing green for grass and brilliant blue for the sky. I color the tents in red and white, golden sunlight splashing across them. It’s the most colorful painting in my room already, but it doesn’t seem to have enough. I add little children in dots of pink and orange and blue, running about with mouths open in silent cries of joy. I put pink splotches of cotton candy in their hands and sit back to admire it. It’s an insane cascade of color that sticks out amidst my dark room. It seems to almost glow, bringing light all on its own.

Will the carnival tonight be as brilliant and fantastical? I imagine myself with Chris, running through the tents and racing for the ferris wheel. Then I replace Chris with Jisung, and my stomach twists. Jisung will probably be at the carnival tonight. Will he want me to be there?

Nah— he has other friends, of course. There’s no reason for him to spend more time with me when we’re not even close. Sure, we’ve had some good talks, but it’s not like I know everything about him. I know he stores food in his cheeks when he eats and he smiles when he’s anxious and he needs to hug something to fall asleep. 

That’s… well, that’s more than I know about Chris, actually. Why don’t I know more about Chris? I tell him so much about me and I barely get anything in return. 

I grip my brush so hard it snaps. I yelp as wood splinters launch themselves into the air. Chest heaving in surprise, I shove my chair back from my desk and stare at the painting. Full of promises and hope. 

Jisung’s words float through my mind.

_“After all, flowers always have to bloom before they wither, right?”_

Then Chris’s.

_“But if you wake up tomorrow with any doubt that you shouldn’t go to the carnival, I think you should just go for it.”_

Oh, fine, I’ll fucking go.

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It’s starting to darken when the carnival starts. I stand bundled up on the outskirts of the flashing lights, having walked over from my house. My sisters left long before me. I spent too long deliberating, but I’m here now. I’m here, and I’m nervous about it, but I’m not going to leave. I’m going to find Jisung and damn it, I’m going to have fun. I’ve done enough crazy shit this summer that I’ve actually felt my boundaries expand. That skinnydipping with Chris— while I technically cheated— really did the trick. He was onto something. 

The carnival has rides and booths with prizes like toys and oversized plushies I’m not even sure would fit on my bed. There’s a ferris wheel, one of those spinny death rides, and a few roller coasters. I’m not exactly a daredevil, but I’m feeling confident enough right now that I might try some, or even all of them out. 

Not by myself, though. Hell no.

Right now I’m just having a great time loitering outside the churro cart because I’ve been at the carnival for twenty minutes and have seen absolutely nobody I know. Even my own sisters are nowhere to be seen. What the hell’s up with that?

Maybe coming was a mistake. If I’m just going to be lonely and miserable the whole time, then it’d be better to just go home.

I turn to do just that. I’m already thinking of which show to rebinge when I bump into a familiar head of long golden hair.

“Felix!” Hyunjin’s hair is down tonight, and it’s long enough to almost reach his shoulders, although it’s kept back by a black headband. He’s wearing a loose red top and has one hand on his hip as he looks at me. I’ve never talked to him like Jisung before, so I don’t know what he’s going to say before he says it. “You’re here!” He looks delighted. There’s another boy with him, I notice, who I’ve never seen before.

“Are you here by yourself? Why don’t you hang out with us?” Hyunjin holds out a hand. I blink in surprise and say nothing. I don’t even know Hyunjin. Why does he want to hang out with me?

“This is Jeongin,” Hyunjin continues, a little uncertainly. “He’s a year below us in school.”

“Nice to meet you, hyung!” Jeongin chirps. His smile takes up half his face. It’s adorable. “Come do a rollercoaster with us!”

I cave to Jeongin’s cuteness. “Where’s Jisung?” I try to ask casually.

“He’s not feeling well. He stayed home,” Hyunjin explains.

“Really?” I frown. He never told me anything like that. While we wait in line, I text him.

_me: so ur not feeling well, huh_

_Annoying Quokka: haha u didnt buy it???_

_me: where are u_

_Annoying Quokka: at home sad bc my bff felix isnt going to the carnival_

_me: ur not here because of me????_

_Annoying Quokka: i wanted to go with u :( but u broke my heart and said u werent going :(_

__

__

_me: im here tho_

_Annoying Quokka: U ARE_

_me: yeah w hyunjin and jeongin_

_Annoying Quokka: lmao that sucks im so comfortable here in bed ^.^_

I show the text exchange to Hyunjin and Jeongin.

“Oh, hell no,” Hyunjin declares. We ditch our spot in line and make a break for the carnival entrance. We don’t even need to say our plan aloud— we’re all thinking the same thing. “We can take my car! It’ll be faster.”

Hyunjin parked in the main parking lot, which means his car is now buried behind five other cars. There is no way to get it out.

“Guess we’re running,” I say, and before the other two can protest, I burst into a sprint. Hyunjin and Jeongin keep up pretty well, Hyunjin shouting directions to me as I lead the way to Jisung’s house.

We pound on the door furiously. “Ya, Han Jisung! Get your ass out here!” Hyunjin shoves Jeongin for talking informally, but I get the sense the younger boy doesn’t really care.

The door opens and a middle-aged woman stands staring at us in confusion. Then she spots Jeongin. “Oh, sweetie! Come on in.” 

Jeongin sticks his tongue out at us and closes the door behind him. Hyunjin and I look uncertainly at each other. “So… do you think we can go in or….” Hyunjin shifts his feet.

I shrug. “No clue.” So we wait out on the porch. Hopefully Jeongin is physically dragging Jisung out of bed, because that’s the fastest way to make him change his mind. 

Hyunjin doesn’t seem to know how to talk to me, and I have no idea what to say to him either. We stand around in awkward silence for a few minutes. I wonder how it’s going inside. 

The door opens a moment later and Jisung beams at us. “You guys came for me!” He declares excitedly. 

“Yes, now let’s go before we regret it,” I say. 

“Are we really running back?” Jeongin whines. We’re all still out of breath.

“You _ran_ here?” Jisung’s eyes widen. “Dedication. Maybe y’all _do_ deserve rights.”

“I can drive you back to the carnival,” Jisung’s mother offers. 

“Great! I call shotgun.” Jisung scampers off to his mom’s minivan, and the rest of us pile into the back.

We sing along to half of a Taemin song before we arrive back at the carnival. “Thanks, Mom!” Jisung leads us into the crowds.

We make it our mission to ride every ride, but it doesn’t exactly happen. Hyunjin throws up after the first rollercoaster and we decide to do the merry-go-round four times in a row while he recovers.

The spinny ride isn’t looking too tempting either, so we stuff our faces with churros. I forgot to have dinner beforehand, but I’m full just from seeing my own happiness reflected on the faces of my friends.

It’s getting later, but I’m still in the midst of the thrill of adrenaline. We go on the ferris wheel for something calmer, and when Hyunjin is feeling better, we challenge another rollercoaster.

When we get off we notice that something’s happening. There’s a big crowd gathered below the ferris wheel, and we can hear the loud bass of a pop song playing instead of carnival tunes.

“Is that—”

 _“Dance party!”_ Jisung shrieks and shoves us all forward.

“Oh, no thanks,” I say immediately, trying to squirm out of his grip.

Jisung pushes us into the midst of the crowd, where a circle of people have formed. The empty space is being utilized by a dense group of people who aren’t so much dancing as jumping energetically. I can do that.

“I don’t really think—”

“Come on, what do you have to worry about here?” Jisung shouts over the music. 

“I guess—” I flinch as someone’s arm almost whacks me in the head. “Nothing.”

Getting my body to move is difficult. I’m not used to dancing or doing anything like this. Jisung grabs my hands and makes me jump in time with him. Once I get the hang of it— riding the rhythm, tossing your hand back and forth and throwing your hands in the air without caring what anyone thinks— it’s actually fun. 

The four of us make a tight circle and jump around together. Hyunjin impresses us with his actual dance skills, and Jisung flails so badly Jeongin and I almost collapse in laughter. We’re in the midst of a heavy crowd, but it feels like no one is watching. 

In that moment, I don’t even care who sees me. 

Dancing makes us exhausted, and we collapse onto a bench completely out of breath. “Thanks for coming to get me,” Jisung pants. 

“Wouldn’t be a party without you,” Hyunjin reassures him.

“No, but seriously. This is so much better than sitting at home watching Tangled.”

I bolt upright. “That’s what I was gonna do tonight!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! Before I decided to come.”

“Why _did_ you decide to come?” Jeongin asks curiously.

I pause only for a moment before answering truthfully. “I wanted to know what it felt like to have a fun night out with… with friends. With no cares or worries or anything.” I hold my breath. My answer is so honest I fear they’ll mock me for it. 

They all nod understandingly. “It’s really scary to not know if you can consider someone a friend or not,” Hyunjin says thoughtfully. “But it’s always better to take the risk, because the reward is so worth it.”

The moment he finishes speaking I spot a familiar face in the crowd. “Be right back,” I say, shooting them a quick smile.

Seungmin is standing by one of the game stalls by himself, staring up at the prizes. “Hey,” I call out as I approach. He turns to face me and his face lights up.

“Hey, Felix! How’ve you been?” Seungmin grins his bright puppy grin at me and I feel my heart swell.

“I’m good! Hey, are you here by yourself?” I cut off the small talk and skip right to the point.

“Yeah,” Seungmin’s voice falters for a second. “I—”

“Wanna come hang with us?” I gesture to where Jisung, Hyunjin, and Jeongin are pretending not to stare at us.

Seungmin’s smile grows even bigger. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yeah, sure!” I lead him over to our exhaustion recovery place. 

“Hi, Hyunjin.” Seungmin waves softly at the tallest boy.

“Oh, hi Minnie! It’s been a while.” Hyunjin looks delighted at the newest edition.

They all know each other from school, but rather than feeling left out, I feel happy I was able to connect them. They make an effort to include me in the conversation and explain things to me. They want me as a part of their group. To feel included is… warm. A warm sunny yellow that contrasts with the cool August night.

We dare Jisung and Hyunjin, the two biggest scaredy cats of the group, to go through the haunted house. We facetime Jisung while they go through it so we can hear his screams. It keeps us all in a fit of laughter. 

The carnival begins to die down, and I feel a stab of disappointment. I want it to keep going. I don’t want this night of joy and freedom to end. For the first time, I’d actually rather be out with other people in a crowd than at home, safe in my bed. 

I pick at the remains of our funnel cake as we traipse back to Hyunjin’s car. Enough people have left by now that he’s able to get it out of the lot, and he offers to drive us all home. The five of us pile into the car, Jisung claiming the seat next to mine in the middle row.

Seungmin is dropped off first, and he thanks me for inviting him to join us. “I’m really glad we could hang out,” he says. “We’ve always been friendly but it was great to actually spend some time together. Hopefully when school starts we’ll still see each other?”

“You bet!” Jeongin promises. “You won’t get rid of us that easily.”

“Wouldn’t want to.”

Jisung falls asleep on my shoulder as Hyunjin drives to Jeongin’s house. The youngest boy gives a cheerful wave, whispering a “Nice to meet you, hyung!” at me before scampering off. 

Hyunjin drives off and when we reach my house, he parks and sits back. We both turn to look at Jisung, peacefully asleep on his Felix pillow.

“How long have you two been friends?” I ask.

“Since the beginning of high school,” Hyunjin responds immediately. “We used to hate each other in middle school. I thought he was an obnoxious, narcissistic asshole.”

“Can't imagine why,” I supply. Hyunjin snorts and claps a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise.

“Anyway, we’ve kind of been best friends for a while. But I’ve never… I’ve still never seen him as excited as he is when he’s with you.”

I snap my head towards the driver’s seat. “Seriously?”

Hyunjin nods. “You’ve had a crazy big influence on him. He’s always talking about you. He told me that he noticed you seemed lonely and he wanted to make it his mission to make sure you had a friend. Even if it had to be him.”

“Even if it had to be him?” I echo. What does that mean? Who wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like Jisung? Who saw so much of people and quietly did everything he could to be there for them, be who they needed? “He should know that he’s someone everyone should love.”

“Maybe if you tell him, he’ll believe it.” 

Hyunjin and I stare at him for a little while longer. Eventually, Jisung shifts his head off my shoulder and flops towards the window.

“Guess that’s my cue to go in,” I say. I smile at Hyunjin and he smiles back. Something so simple has never felt so easy.

“Have a good night, Felix! Sleep well.” Hyunjin’s soft well wishes float after me as I quietly shut the car door and enter my house. 

The rest of my family is asleep. It’s late. The house is silent. But my head is bursting with enough sound to wake up them all. Despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the excitement blooming in my heart, my head hits the pillow and I immediately fall through my bed into a land of dreams polka dotted with peace and hope, adventures and friends. 

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“We ate so much I literally thought I might throw up— well, Hyunjin actually _did_ throw up, which is why we ended up sitting out a lot— but then there was this whole dance party thing and we all danced and it was so much fun!” Chris is sitting and looking up at me while I wave my arms about, recounting the entire night. “Then we played some of the games and Jisung refused to stop playing until he won Jeongin this big fox plushie—” I falter. “I’m sorry, is it rude of me to rub it in your face that I had fun? I just wanted to tell you everything….”

Chris shakes his head, dark curls bouncing in agreement. “No no, I told you I didn’t want to go so you’re totally fine to tell me about everything. So, what did you do next?”

When I finish retelling the carnival, I flop down beside Chris in exhaustion. “We got home so late and I feel like I slept for a whole day,” I tell him.

“Oh, really? That must be why you’re bursting with so much energy.”

I blink. “Am I?”

“You haven’t stopped moving for a single moment. It’s like you’re gonna explode, or something.”

I cover my face as I laugh. “Sorry….”

Chris just smiles and says, “I’m glad you had fun. You don’t regret going, do you?”

“Of course not!” I bounce excitedly. “I’m just happy you convinced me to go.”

“Really? You went because of me?” Chris looks surprised.

“Well….” I clench my fingers together. “Also because of Jisung.”

Chris smiles. “You have friends, Felix.”

“What?’ I look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve come so far since I first met you. You went out by yourself, to hang out with a group of people, without knowing what they really thought of you. You’ve gotten so much better at talking to people. That’s so much more than you accomplished with a therapist.”

I start to feel self-conscious again, and I tighten my arms around myself. “Right.”

“You have friends to hang out with in school. People to eat lunch with and talk about classes with and work on homework with.” I scoff, but Chris continues anyway. “I know you have a hard time opening up, but it seems like you trust these guys.”

I stare at my feet and wiggle my toes nervously. “I guess I do.”

Chris smiles. “I guess you don’t need me anymore, then.”

My head shoots up to stare at him in shock. “Wh— what does that mean? Of course I need you, Chris! Just because I have friends to talk to now doesn’t mean I don’t want to confide in you!”

“Ah, you _want_ to. But you don’t _need_ to,” Chris corrects.

“I…” Why is this so hard to say? “I suppose I don’t.”

Chris nods as if to confirm this. “School starts soon, doesn’t it?” And just like that, he guides the conversation away. 

“Yeah. We’re going to the open house tomorrow. They have alumni speaking and stuff. My parents really want me to go.” I kick at the sand. I don’t really want to go, because I’d rather have Jisung show me around. But my parents have seemed a lot happier with me ever since I started hanging out with my new friends, and I don’t want to ruin that.

“School’s starting soon for both of us, then,” Chris says. “That means it’s almost time to say goodbye.”

“What?” I turn to him. “We have to say goodbye?”

Chris smiles. “This was always going to be a summer thing, Felix.”

It sounds like he’s breaking up with me. 

“When can I see you again, then?” I ask. Chris just shrugs.

“Whenever you need a friend.”

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Open house is the following afternoon. My parents drive me to the school and spend the whole drive yammering about how happy they are with the school’s mental health system, how good the counselors are and how much support I’ll get. I wish I had my headphones.

“Hi, welcome!” A woman in a cheerful yellow T-shirt greets us with a brochure. “The opening speakers are starting soon, please have a seat!”

It’s mostly freshmen at the open house, so I make us sit at the back. As a result we don’t get the best view of the speakers, but I don’t really care. I tune them out and fix my eyes on the peeling paint on the walls of the auditorium. I picture myself coming here for assemblies, sitting next to Jisung and Seungmin and gossiping the whole time. It makes me smile.

They give tours after, and I peek into classrooms and imagine myself sitting at the desks. It’s not as scary in person. I let myself breathe.

There’s sand on the floors of the halls, and the walls are painted in shades of blue and green. Everything reminds me of the ocean. It makes me think of Chris. It soothes my nerves and stresses me at the same time.

“How’s your friend doing?” Mom drops back to ask as the tour shows us around the science labs. 

“Jisung?” I ask in confusion.

“No, Chris,” she explains. I feel my pulse quicken, and my fingers fly to my neck on instinct to feel its beat.

“He’s fine,” I reply. “I saw him yesterday. He said since school is starting soon we won’t be able to see each other a lot.”

“Ah,” Mom looks like she’s put pieces together somehow. “Is it because of your friends?”

“Huh? No, I said cause of school.”

“Yes, but maybe he feels that since you have friends now, you don’t need him anymore.”

I freeze, because that’s exactly what Chris was trying to say. But he didn’t mean it in the way she’s thinking, right?

“It’s not like he’s going to disappear now,” I say instead.

“Don’t be surprised if he does, though.” Mom pats my hair soothingly. “Now that you have real people to rely on, maybe your mind is trying to tell you that you don’t need to comfort yourself anymore.”

“Huh?” 

But Mom moves ahead to talk to the student council kid giving the tour, and I end up at the back of the group by myself. 

As we emerge back outside, they lead the tour to the football field. As I pass the open doors of the auditorium, I hear someone hissing my name. 

“Ya! Felix! Come here!”

It’s not a voice I recognize immediately. But then I turn, and my memory from long ago combined with recent Facebook searches puts a name to the boy beckoning me over. His voice is deeper and more gravelly than I remember, but it’s definitely him.

“I didn’t know you were coming here.” Changbin greets me with a grin. He slings an arm over my shoulders, and even though the tour is now long gone, I don’t really care.

“I didn’t know you were an alum,” I tease. He’s shorter than me, shorter than Chris too, and I revel in the extra inches I have on him.

“How’s your summer been, bud?” Changbin leads me to one of the benches in the outdoor courtyard. He looks around conspiratorially before pulling out a fudgesicle. “They bribed us with these to get us to come back. I snuck one away when I saw you.”

Delighted, I snatch up the frozen treat. “I made friends,” I say proudly.

Changbin’s eyes widen. “For real? No way! Up top.” We high five triumphantly. “Tell me who! Maybe I know them. I just graduated last year.”

Turns out Changbin and Jisung are super close. They used to make music together.

“Jisung sings?” I cry in surprise. “He never mentioned anything about that.”

Changbin nods enthusiastically. “Raps, too. He didn’t say anything about music?”

“He said he writes lyrics, but I didn’t realize he sings them too.”

“One of the most talented people I know. Kid’s a genius.” Changbin gives me a knowing smile. “It’s gonna be a good year, Felix.”

I finish the popsicle and rest my head on my knees. “I could use a good year.”

“I get that sense.” Changbin stretches his legs out in front of him and leans back. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”

“I”m bisexual.”

“That’s cool, but not what I meant.”

“Oh.” I scratch my head awkwardly. “My bad.” 

“Just seems like you have something you wanna talk about. Really bad.” He gestures to my rapidly bouncing leg.

I sigh. “I made this friend.”

Changbin’s eyebrows raise. “Go on.”

“He doesn’t go to the school. He’s older. We met on the beach, and we’ve talked a lot. Talking to him helped me open up to a lot of people. I’ve gotten better at talking and I’ve gotten way more confident. But my family doesn’t think he’s real.”

“What? Why not?” Changbin’s face betrays the same bewilderment I feel.

“They’ve never met him, and he always seems to disappear when they come near. Mom thinks he’s my mind trying to comfort me and help me feel less alone.”

Changbin is silent for a moment. “Does it matter?” He asks eventually.

“Huh?” 

“I mean, he helped you, and you’ve grown a lot because of him, so does it matter whether he’s real or not? The impact he had is real.”

He makes it sound so simple, but I’ve never thought of it that way before.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.” Then I surprise both of us by throwing my arms around his shoulders. “Thank you, Binnie.”

“That’s Binnie-hyung.” Changbin pushes my shoulder lightly, and I roll my eyes. 

“I should catch up with my parents,” I say. “They probably think I’m off talking to myself or something.”

“Maybe you are.” Changbin wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe I’m not real either.”

I step on his foot and he yelps. “Nice talking to you, hyung. Thank you.” 

Changbin grins. “Any time, kid.”

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The day before school starts, I meet up with Jisung at my beach. I haven’t seen Chris since the day before open house when we last talked. It’s almost a week since then, and it’s weird. This is the longest I’ve gone without talking to him.

Jisung comes to sit next to me with a bag from a convenience store. He pulls out two sandwiches and a couple sodas, and we picnic on the beach. I tell him what Changbin said about Chris.

“I mean, he’s right,” Jisung says, half his sandwich stuffed in his cheeks. “The way he helped you doesn’t change if he’s really just in your head.”

I sip my soda contemplatively. “Do you think I’m crazy?” I ask curiously.

“Do I— what? No…? Should I?” Jisung asks cautiously.

“Well, if he really was all in my head. Would you think I’m crazy?”

Jisung shrugs. “Even if you are, it’s not like I wouldn’t want to be your friend. Whatever goes on in your brain isn’t your fault.”

It’s not the answer I wanted, but it’s the answer I need to hear. Maybe Chris was all in my head, but even so, that’s not too bad, is it? I mean, if there’s a scientific reason behind it, it’s not too alarming, anyways. I just wish I could see him one more time.

I lean my head against Jisung’s shoulder and we watch the sun set. If it was anyone else it would be romantic, but with Jisung it just feels cathartic. The most eventful summer of my life coming to an end peacefully. Somehow that just doesn’t feel fitting.

Jisung tells me what classes will be like while I toss chips in the air and catch them in my mouth. We split a bag of jellies and he shows off some cheesy pickup lines he wants to try on Hyunjin. It’s fun but the mood is calm, Jisung’s usual high tension mood dimmed.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask. 

“School,” he says simply. “College. It always gets me like this.”

I tip my head. I can’t imagine anything dimming Jisung’s sunny glow. “Really?”

Jisung nods. “There’s a lot of pressure and I’ve never been good at handling that stuff. It always has an impact on me. I really want to go to this college up in the mountains, way away from cities and civilization and stuff. My parents want me to stay here, or at least in Seoul.”

It feels weird to be on the receiving end of such honesty for once. “Wherever you end up should be where you’ll be happiest,” I tell him. “And we’ll get through it together,” I promise. “You don’t have to worry about being alone.”

He grins. “Thanks.” 

We finish up our picnic as the sun touches the edge of the ocean. Its light flies across the surface of the water, lighting up the waves in shades of dusty orange and blushing pink. 

“Wow,” we say at the same time. 

The water laps at our toes. I jump in surprise. Is it just me, or was the water not this close before?

I turn back around to pack up our things while Jisung continues staring at the sea. “Um,” he says. 

“Yeah?” I ask without looking.

“Um. Felix. Um.” Jisung starts hitting my arm repeatedly. 

“Geez, what—” 

I cut myself off as words fall from my tongue and fail to appear on my lips. 

Chris waves. 

I’m too stunned to wave back.

He always just appeared beside me when I turned around, and he’s sitting now, but not next to me. 

The ocean covers his lower half as he sits within the tide. No, it doesn’t cover him. It’s more like…. The ocean has only formed his upper half.

He stands, and some water comes pouring off him while some clings to him, flying from his fingertips in slow motion, falling droplets becoming sparkling rain in the reflection of the sun’s last light.

Chris walks towards us from the ocean, and as he approaches I look back and forth to Jisung to make sure he’s seeing him too. Jisung’s eyes are glued to Chris, wide and unblinking. 

“Hey Felix.” Chris sits down in front of us. 

“Are you real?” I blurt out. 

Chris laughs. “Have you been questioning that this whole time?”

“Yes!” I exclaim. “I don’t think anyone else believes you exist.”

“Of course I’m real.” Chris leans back on his hands.

“Are you a ghost?” Jisung whispers.

“No.” Chris watches us in amusement. “I am the spiritual embodiment of a fragment of the ocean’s life force.”

“You’re a— a sea... person?” I attempt.

“You can also say _spirit of the ocean,_ but yes, that’ll work too.”

“I think I _am_ crazy,” I decide. 

“No way, man, that means I am too,” Jisung protests. “Don’t rope me in with you.”

I shake my head. “So why did you talk to me?”

Chris smiles awkwardly. “I saw how lonely you looked, coming to sit at the beach all by yourself, and… I guess I wanted to be your friend.”

“Oh.” I blush. An actual nature spirit had taken pity on how sad I looked. The universe itself was laughing at me.

“So you see, it’s hard for me to appear in front of people,” Chris continues. “I’m only visible to those who have a powerful connection to the ocean. So I don’t have a wide variety of friends to choose from.”

Jisung looks at me then back at Chris. “So you’re me and Felix’s secret immortal friend now?”

“Hey, stay out of this,” I protest, swatting at him.

“What? I can see him too!”

Chris’s mouth quirks up in an amused smile. “I wanted to see you one last time to say how grateful I am for letting me be your friend.”

_“Letting you?”_ The audacity. “Do you know how much I owe you?”

“Quite a lot, I’m sure.” Chris laughs. “I’m not really supposed to hang out with humans, so forgive me if I won’t be appearing much anymore. I’ll do my best.” He reaches forward to pull me into his arms. We share one last hug, and I save his scent of the fresh ocean breeze in my mind to remember. Jisung stays quiet, curled up and pretending he isn’t there to try and give us some privacy.

“Good luck. With school, and everything.”

“Good luck with spirit stuff,” I say. Chris laughs, the sweet, kind laugh that makes me feel so safe.

“Goodbye, Felix.”

“Goodbye, Chris.”

Chris turns and walks back into the ocean. I watch the waves welcome him and pull him down into the depths.

Jisung lets out a held breath once he’s gone. “How’d I do?” He asks eagerly, scooting closer.

“How’d you— what?”

Jisung’s eyes gleam as he waits for me to catch up.

“Wait— you were speaking English!” I realize.

Jisung nods furiously.

“I— I didn’t even notice! You’re so good!” I laugh. “We could have spoken Korean. Chris and I did the first time we met before we realized we’re both from Australia.”

Jisung shakes his head just as fast. “I wanted to show off my English skills.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Pretty impressive, right?”

He managed to keep up with a conversation in a language he isn’t fluent in so I could speak my first language during my last talk with Chris. I feel myself grow warm as my heart swells. 

“Thank you,” I say. It’s been a long time coming, but— “For this and for everything.”

“Everything?” 

Ugh. He’s really going to make me say it.

“For being my friend,” I explain uncomfortably.

“Oh. Yeah. No problem, man.” 

Maybe it’s not a problem for him, but it was a problem for me. 

I have friends now. I’m going to school, a real school for the first time in years, and like Chris said, I don’t have to worry about who to sit with or who to talk to or who to ask for help with my homework.

Because I have Jisung and Seungmin and Hyunjin and Jeongin, and sometimes, if it’s quiet, and the sun reflects its light on the ocean and splinters it throughout the night, and there’s no one around to see or hear us, I’ll have Chris. 

∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿∿

Chan sits on the beach by himself. There’s no Felix this morning. He’s come out of the water to look at it from an outsider’s view, one he so rarely got before the freckled Australian came into his life. Now, he comes up often for a breath of fresh air, so to speak.

“Ya! Bang Chan.”

Someone’s walking towards him, and they don’t sound pleased.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Chan pats the sand beside him, and Minho sits in a huff.

“You think you can just waltz around chatting with humans and no one would notice?”

“Did you notice?” Chan replies slyly.

“I— Of course I noticed. Everyone noticed. You’re not subtle.”

“I’ve never tried to be.”

“What was so important about that kid that you prioritized him over the balance of keeping humans and spirits separate?” Minho folds his arms and glares. The golden light of the sunrise illuminates his beautiful face and its pissed off expression.

“Sometimes there are people who need help, Minho,” Chan says calmly. “Sometimes they need a friend. And instead of waiting around for someone else to befriend them, you have to do it yourself.”

Minho opens his mouth and closes it. “I know that.”

“Do you?” Chan asks. “Is that why you’re going to a college next year up in the mountains way away from civilization?”

“I’m a spirit of the wind, we thrive in the mountains.”

“So it doesn’t have to do with any particular student there named Ha—”

Minho shoves him over. “Oh, go cry to a fish about it, Chan.” He turns to walk away. 

“See you in class!” Chan cackles after him.

“See you in hell!”

Chan turns back to the ocean once he’s gone. There’s no reason to keep spirits and humans apart, he thinks. At least, the ones who respect and appreciate nature for what it brings to the earth. Felix has always found solace in the ocean, and that’s why Chan felt so connected to him. To those who appreciate the ocean for what it gives them, it will always give back.

Whether there is rain, or sun, in the darkness of winter, the growth of spring, the warmth of summer, or the solitude of autumn, you can always find a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> the end is alluding to the possibility of a sequel, i havent decided whether im going to write it or not but it would be minsung centric.  
> Please let me know if u enjoyed! i have more fics planned out(chaptered ones) that im going to begin working on soon. thunderstorms will still have its regular update schedule!  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> follow me on twitter <3  
> @dazzlingsundrop  
> Thank you for reading, sunflowers!  
> ~Li


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